Meeting Sherlock
by beurownhero
Summary: Prompt Fill: "If Sherlock met you, what would he deduce in a single glance". I put us on a bus in Harrow, England at 2am. Mentions of university, rugby, drinking, etc. Briefest reference to John. Summaries are hard.


So challenged people to "write what you think Sherlock would glean about you from a single look". the rules state that the facts you include about yourself must be real (although i wrote about 4 years ago me to put me back in England), it should be realistic / in character, and Sherlock should miss something ("there's always something")

This isn't 100% what was asked for, but I tried. Of course, this Sherlock belongs to the BBC and it's writers. I belong to no one.

* * *

"We just passed your stop", the man in the Belstaff coat said with an air of amusement.  
"What? yes, I am aware, thank you," I replied, a little shocked, as I reached up to push the button so the driver would know to let me off at the next one  
"American?" he asked, far too nosy for my taste.  
"Obviously"  
"Ohio or Pennsylvania?" the stranger continued.  
"Pennsylvania," I stated turning to look at this man.  
The man nodded to himself. "the next stop is…"  
"harrow on the hill. in .68 miles. 1km. I am aware."

"Are you not interested in how I knew where you were from?" he questioned - my lack of interest in his deductions seemingly intriguing him far more than what he was clearly trying to read off my belongings  
I gave him a hard look. "Not hard. accent. Mid-western. the one you hear on tv all the time. but the pace and speed of a New Yorker."

He nods to himself, thinking, before asking, "How was the bar?"  
I smirked back. I knew he didn't care one iota about the bar, but rather was hoping to catch me off guard. Instead of answering his question, I rattled back "Also easy. I've got my passport in my pocket. Why? We've already established I'm not from here, but I'm clearly not on the way to or from the airport because I don't have any luggage or bags. Passports are usually considered something to be taken care of. high priority. not recommended to carry them around for no reason. so why? not travelling. what's left? Identification. American license doesn't hold weight here. Where do we need an ID? many places, but as it's 2am and we're in the middle of Harrow, not central London, bar or club is the logical conclusion. I'm not dressed for the club, ergo, bar."  
I see his lips quirk up in a quick smile, but it disappears almost instantly. "Right."

Two could play at this game, but it was clear he wasn't used to having someone else step in.

The bus came to a stop moments later. He stood to exit with me; I raised my eyebrows in question. He shrugged in response, and followed me in to the night.

"Film or TV major?" he asked, the light alive in his eyes, as we started to make our way back down the road.  
When I opened my mouth all I got out was, "the last stop, the one I missed, was…" before he interrupted, "the hospital or the University of Westminster Harrow Campus."  
I nodded. "no flowers. no card. no tears. not visiting… no hospital"  
"it's also 2am," he added, before continuing, "therefore student. not math, science, history, or lit because those are conducted on the main campus in central London. this campus is for Communications or Foreign Language. you're not journalism because your fingers are not those of one who holds a pen or pencil all day. not radio. you don't have the voice for it. not foreign language because if it were, you wouldn't be here at all, but in that country. so, as i asked, tv or film"  
"both" i conceded, impressed despite myself.

A brief pause, and then, "Women don't really play rugby in this country"  
A laugh escaped me. "No. no they don't," i said simply, eyes quickly glancing down to the tattoo on my ankle so he knew I knew how he had reached that conclusion, "shame really"  
"Second row?"  
"Nope… sorry. I have the build for it though don't I? Wing actually. Apparently I'm fast"  
"Ahh. Always something"

We parted ways as I came upon the old brick buildings I was currently calling home.

"Good Night" I said to this strange, yet interesting man.

He didn't return the words, just stuck out his hand for a quick handshake before melting away into the night.

When his footsteps were almost out of reach, I called out, "You know. You can walk around all night, and he'll still be angry. more so, that you made him wait up. Tea shop by the Kenton Tube Station is still open if you feel inclined to apologize"

He didn't respond, but a second later the footsteps changed direction. Apparently he too did not need a map to find the Bakerloo Line.

* * *

update: for those interested in the last deduction, the one about Sherlock, here's where that would have come from.

How do we know someone back home is angry? We know that he is out at 2am, and he is currently riding a bus with no destination if he was happy to get off to continue our conversation. From an outsider's perspective, he is also still dressed from work. My Sherlock has also forgotten his wallet. Why would you leave after work without changing and without grabbing your wallet and then wander aimlessly throughout the country for hours? Usually because you're angry and "I need some air" is much more potent when followed by a slammed door rather than you going into the other room to grab your wallet.

Why is he on that bus in the first place? The tube is closed (it shuts down around midnight), and as he doesn't have a wallet, he doesn't have cab fare. Buses are so cheap you could find the fare, or easily ask for it from a stranger. Also, again, no real destination in mind, just wandering. but why THAT bus? Well, it went to Harrow, and the stop we both got off on is Harrow on the Hill. This is where the Harrow School for boys is - one of the top public schools in the UK. You could deduce that Sherlock attended at some point (Benedict Cumberbatch did).

How do I know it's a "he" that Sherlock is going home to? Men who live in close proximity with other men smell not like only their own cologne, but the other person's. If Sherlock was living with (in what ever relationship you so deem appropriate) he would smell mostly of his own scent, but with the underlying traces of someone else's cologne.


End file.
